


of cold hands and honey skin

by icedleafwater



Series: gentle boy(s) [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Fluff, I guess???, Implied/Referenced Depression, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 11:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15907554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedleafwater/pseuds/icedleafwater
Summary: the one where mark fell in love with his best friend, pushed him away, and they reconnect, or something along those lines.





	of cold hands and honey skin

**Author's Note:**

> i didnt know where i was going while writing this, it just kind of happened

Gathering the motivation to sit up in bed, to throw his legs over the edge and to pad across the rough, chilly wood floor was sometimes all he could do in a day. For so long, it had been. Mark would drag himself out of bed and to the bathroom, and before long he’d be back in his bed, stagnant. 

Sometimes, he’d peer into his bathroom mirror as he washed his hands. The dull sensation of cool water graced his palms as he gazed into his sunken cheeks, the light behind his eyes dulled to nothing more than a whisper. Surely, that wasn’t him. Couldn’t be him. A hand, dripping wet, hesitant, reached out to touch the mirror. The man in the glass did the same. It was him. The once bright, bubbly adolescent was reduced to nothing more than a shadow.

It’s mostly funny. He let out a dull, shaky laugh- the sound now unfamiliar and croaky in his unused throat, and padded back to his bed.

The sun sets. Rises. Sets. It’s hardly noticed, treated like cheap background music in a low budget movie. In a way, it is. Mark manages another shaky laugh at the thought. The buzzing of a phone echoes in the pale yellow bedroom. An unsteady hand reaches for it- nobody’s called in so long, who could it be? The phone’s screen flashes an image of a bright boy with skin the color of honey. Mark’s eyes widen. 

He answers. The line crackles.

“Hyuck?”

The familiarity of his name falling from his mouth is comforting, in an uncomfortable sort of way. The thought that he still loves the boy on the end of the line so very much weighs on him. He considers hanging up. A nasal voice, more high pitched than his own, interrupts him.

A nervous giggle.

“Where’ve you been?”

“Why do you care?” 

Mark hadn’t intended for his response to be so harsh. A sharp inhale could be heard on the other end of the line.

“I’ve missed you. Everything is so- so quiet, without you.”

Donghyuck’s tone was soft. Gentle, as if he was talking to a wounded animal instead of his best friend. The comfort the two find in each other is ever present, even after everything Mark had done to push the younger boy away. 

It was nothing personal. He loved Hyuck with all his heart, and that’s what scared him.

“I’ve missed you,” Mark admits, more so to himself than to Donghyuck.

“How could you not?” he could practically hear the boy’s lips curling into a smirk, the atmosphere becoming less tense, if only a little.

“Come over.”

Mark didn’t let his words hang in the air for long, the invitation shortly followed by the rapid beeping of a line gone dead.

**Author's Note:**

> this is awful im sorry


End file.
